


Firewall

by NerdyAdjacent



Series: Dark Days [6]
Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: wrestlingkink, D/s undertones, Forced Proximity, Kidnapping, M/M, Obsession, Prompt Fill, Sex, Sexual Coercion, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, Trapped in snowstorm, m/m - Freeform, non con/dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:18:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6885220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyAdjacent/pseuds/NerdyAdjacent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was for Seth's own good and he would just have to understand that. Dean would MAKE him understand that, no matter how long it took, because Seth loved him. He had to, there was no other option. This was the last chapter in their story, and he was determined for it to be a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Force is in Love with You

**Author's Note:**

> Full prompt:
> 
> Dean doesn't believe Seth when he says he never cared about him. It's obvious that he's only saying that because the Authority is forcing him, right? All Dean needs to do is whisk him away and make him see that he loves Dean just as much as Dean loves him.
> 
> Dean kidnaps Seth after a show and takes him out to a cabin in the woods. He chains him up in the cellar and forces Seth to depend on him for his every need. 
> 
> Bonus for Dean brushing Seth's hair(don't even ask lol)

Seth was lying.

That's what he does. He lies and cheats and steals to get what he wants. In any other situation, Dean might even admire the willingness to do what's needed despite consequences.

Any other situation but this one.

“ _You were never my brother! I never cared about you!_ ” He yelled into the microphone, eyes locked and serious. But he was obviously lying. He had to be. How cold Dean love someone so much, so unconditionally, and not have it returned? He was a pretty good judge of character, and there was no way Seth Rollins hated him as much as he claimed. The authority had him brainwashed, that was the only logical explanation.

 _His_ Seth would never do this.

 _His_ Seth loved him.

 _His_ Seth was perfect.

 _His_ Seth was not some corporate asshole with a God complex.

He tried to prove it to him, so many times, vowing to stop him from cashing in that suitcase because he loved him; jumping him at every possible turn, because he loved him; all the promos, all the matches, all to make sure Seth didn't forget him, because he loved him.

Seth wasn't _allowed_ to forget him.

He had to take more drastic measures this time, for Seth's own good. He had to show him he wasn't what they made him. He was the man Dean Ambrose loved, so he couldn't be... _that_.

He was surprisingly easy to take and Dean _almost_ felt bad for hitting him in the back of the head with a broom handle.

 _Almost_.

He almost felt bad for the duct tape.

 _Almost_.

He almost felt bad for shoving him in the trunk of his car.

 _Almost_.

He almost felt bad for driving to the middle of nowhere where they could be alone.

 _Almost_.

But not really.

This was for Seth's own good and he would just have to understand that. Dean would _MAKE_ him understand that, no matter how long it took, because Seth loved him. He had to, there was no other option. This was the last chapter in their story, and he was determined for it to be a happy ending.

He was still unconscious when Dean opened the trunk. Lying there helpless, he would look almost peaceful if it weren't for the duct tape wrapped around his wrists and ankles, or the strip covering his perfect mouth. He had to take a moment to admire the man, all muscles and tan skin accentuating the brain of a genius that peeked out behind eyes so dark they could be black. He was glad he took him while he was still in his ring gear so he could admire his form in a more familiar setting. That mop of brown hair particularly caught his attention, the blond streak almost gone. He wondered if Seth did that to try and distance himself from The Shield, but Dean had alway liked it and found himself missing it now. The fact that it was almost gone meant Seth wanted to forget. But He couldn't forget. He wasn't _allowed_ to forget.

He knew nights around here would get cold, so he'd have to eventually give him something to cover his bare chest. For now, he could at least admire the Adonis tied up in his trunk.

He forgot how heavy Seth could be when he dragged the dead weight of his unconscious former brother up the three steps to the porch. The stairs creaked and moaned under every footfall, but that didn't bother Dean.

No one would hear them anyway.

Nobody questioned him when he bought the ramshackle cabin. It was believable enough for the reclusive Dean Ambrose to want to go off the grid for a while, find himself, be one with nature, and all that bullshit. Nobody questioned when he took some time off to find himself. Nobody questioned the fact that he would be miles from the nearest shread of civilization, that there was no cell service, that he would be surrounded by a great expanse of forest with no company but the birds and the bears and the wolves.

But he had company now.

He had laughed when Roman made a sideways comment akin to “but no one will be able to hear you scream.”

That was the point.

Seth Rollins would have no one but Dean to depend on. No one to help him. No one to care but the shattered love of a man with nothing else to lose because he had already lost it years ago.

Then he'd see what he meant to him.

Then he'd see.

He'd see and he'd know. Dean Ambrose would not be forgotten.


	2. It Wants You Safe

The first thing he did was take his shoes.

It's harder to run that way.

Not that he could get far anyway. The cabin was surrounded by miles of dense forest and mountains on either side, the Quartz in the stone tampered with the cell phone reception, and the animals, he was told, didn't take kindly to humans encroaching on their land. But, it was better to play it safe, just in case Seth decided to get brave.

Which he would.

Because he was brave. That was one of the traits that drew Dean to his magnetic presence in the first place. He was brave and fearless and smart and witty. He was everything any man would want to be and anyone with a heart would want to love. Shame he didn't see Dean the same way. At least, that's what he was sure he told himself.

He had taken every precaution. Besides being situated in the middle of nowhere, the cabin was equipped with a root cellar, the only access of which was through a hidden door in the sparse kitchen. The walls were stone, it could get cold and damp, but he tried to make it feel somewhat homey. He'd given him a space heater, plenty of blankets, a twin bed that barely fit the six foot tall man; he didn't want Seth to be uncomfortable. That wasn't the point here. The point was to make him see reason, to understand that he loved Dean just as fiercely as Dean loved him because Dean knew it and so would he.

He'd have to chain him up, at least until he was able to see, to understand. He hated to do it, but at least he was still unconscious when he cuffed him to the bed - he doubted he'd be able to do it as smoothly otherwise.

Now he waited.

He'd wait for Seth forever if he had to. That's the funny thing. Seth just needed to see that, he needed to understand.

He sat down in a chair not to far from the sleeping form of the one person he would kill for, the one person he'd die for, and the one person who lied to him every day. He watched his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm and wondered if the shiver he saw glide across the bronze skin was a subconscious assertion of what Dean had been thinking all along or his body reacting to the cold of the cellar. It didn't matter either way because he was content to watch Seth in the peaceful moments before he woke up. He drank him in, smiling absently to himself at the visually stunning individual. Even in his compromised position, Seth managed to be pretty. His long lashes brushed his cheekbone with his eyes closed, he'd never realized how dark his hair was until now, his skin was smooth and tight, and his hands, good strong hands, rested slack against where he had them shackled above his head.

He could do anything he wanted to him right now and Seth would be powerless to stop him. His dick twitched in interest, but he wasn't ready for that, not yet. That would come later. It was a promise he whispered to himself. He would settle for simply touching him and leaned forward in the chair so he was leaning over his body. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide where he should let his fingers caress. His chest was fully exposed, but that felt wrong somehow.

He settled on something smaller, something chaste. He reached out and traced a line from his palm to the tip on his middle finger, lingering on the digit longer than he anticipated. The connection was electric despite the small surface area of finger touching finger, but it was enough. He did it again, tracing from palm to the tip of his ring finger now. When he did it for a third time, Seth began to stir ever so slightly. His pointer finger twitched below Deans and a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. He was ready for this, he'd always been ready

Seth Rollins was waking up.

It took longer than he had anticipated. His hands twitching in their bonds, his breathing picking up, his eyes fluttering, his head turning toward Dean. He almost wondered if Seth somehow knew it would be him when he opened his eyes. He brushed away a stray hair from his captives face and smiled at the barely audible hum that fell from his parted lips.

“C’mon, Sethie boy, open your eyes.”

Again his long lashes fluttered and the hum transformed to a pained groan. Granted, he had hit him with a broom handle, so the headache was probably pretty painful. When his eyes finally did roll open, they settled for staring straight up at the ceiling as he winced. He looked around for a few seconds, Dean letting him acclimate to his surroundings for now, there'd be plenty of time for other things later.

When his gaze landed on Dean, the confusion was evident. “Dean, what-?”

That's when he tried to move his arms, realizing they were tethered above him. Brown eyes widened as panic began settling in. “What the _fuck_!? What's going on!? _Dean_!? What the hell-”

A palm over his mouth was the best he could do to quiet him for a few minutes while he took in his panicking captive. The peacefulness he had admired previously was gone now, replaced with blown out pupils, ragged breathing, and straining arm muscles as he tried to make sense of the situation.

It would all make sense for him soon. Because Dean would make it make sense.

“You talk too much, Seth.” He said, calmer than he thought possible given the struggling man looking at him for answers to unasked questions. He smiled at that. “If I move my hand, you're going to listen.”

There was a long moment when he thought Seth might refuse, but the quick, successive nods under his hand came without hesitation.

“Good.”

He removed his hand and Seth didn't move. He watched him carefully, calculating his situation like only Seth Rollins could. Dean could see the wheels working overtime in his head, the connections being made, the unfathomable confusion when no logical answer came. But he was quiet...for now.

“I'm sorry I had to do this.” He said, feeling an apologetic smile creep to the corners of his mouth. “But you need to understand.”

Seth's mouth opened and closed a few times, gauging Dean's reaction to the movement before he spoke. Dean let him. “Wh-what do I need to understand?”

“You NEVER UNDERSTAND!”

He shouldn't have gotten angry, he really shouldn't have. But Seth didn't get it. How could he not get it? The apologetic smile was gone and he felt his brows pull together and his lips purse. Seth retreated back against the bed as much as his current position would allow at the volatile reaction. He was laughing now, he felt it in his throat. “You _never_ understood.”

“What do you want me to understand?” The question was careful, tentative, quiet. So unlike the Seth he loved. This was a man willing to say whatever he had could to appease Dean. That wasn't what he wanted.

“Tell me you understand?” He asked, wanting an honest answer to a question he never asked.

“Dean, I-”

“TELL ME!”

“Okay! I understand!”

He shook his head, the smile back. “Lies. That's all you do is lie, Seth.”

“You have to let me go Dean.” He tried, as if the simple statement could change what was already in place. “You've lost it, man.”

No.

He hadn't lost it. He was seeing clearly for the first time and Seth would too.

“I'm sorry.” Was his reply when he stood from the chair. Seth obviously needed time to think, to process.

He'd give it to him because this wasn't right.

Seth wasn't right.

“Where are you going?!” Seth yelled after him. “I'll scream, someone will come looking!”

Dean peered over his shoulder and laughed, “Scream all you want. Scream until you're blue in the face. No one can hear you out here. No one but me and it won't keep me from a good night sleep.”

“You're sick!”

“And you don't get it.” He said, stalking back to the prone man chained to the bed too small for him. He placed his hands on the mattress, grinning as Seth instinctively pulled away. “This is for your own good. Soon you'll realize.”

“Realize what, Dean? That you're insane? I've known that for years.”

He smiled again and patted Seth on the cheek, not surprised at all when he pulled his face away from the touch. “Yeah, I know. But there's a small detail you missed while you were psychoanalysing me all those years.”

“Yeah? What's that?”

“I'm irrevocably in love with you.” He stated, the words tumbling from his mouth like they were the most natural thing in the world to say. It felt good to say it to him, that now he knew. “And soon, you'll admit the same.”

Seth was laughing now, that distinctive cackle that filled his ears so many times in the ring. “Me? Love you? Never. Who could ever love you?”

The words stung. They wrapped around him like thorns and dug into the fragile sanity he already clung to. But he wouldn't let Seth see this. No, Seth couldn't see any weakness because Seth would exploit every little nuance of it. He'd known him for years, it's how he worked.

So rather, he smiled again, putting that wall between he and Seth like he had always done. It was ok because soon Seth would realize his own feelings. But Dean would have to fix him first.

“Enjoy your night, Rollins.” He stated, emotionless, before climbing up the root cellar stairs and closing the door behind him.

It was easy enough to ignore the screams.


	3. It Wants You Well

He'd stopped screaming by 2am, probably wearing himself out by cursing and yelling. Nothing a good pair of noise canceling headphones could fix. He'd let Seth curse and scream and yell, it wasn't like he didn't expect it.

The following morning, He had made a breakfast of oatmeal and orange juice, things he could easily feed Seth - provided he cooperates.

He'd opened the root cellar door and climbed down the creaky steps fully expecting a barrage of choice words from the man cuffed to the bed, but it was quiet. Seth had managed to curl himself onto his side, arms still tethered to the bed frame, knees drawn up. He was so beautiful when he slept, even like this. Dean had forgotten how much he liked watching him. In their Shield days, when they had shared hotel rooms, Dean would often fight sleep just so he could watch the steady rise and fall of Seth's chest, the way he mumbled softly, the way he never seemed to move, like he was dead to the world.

He had stopped to admire the sleeping form for a few seconds, but ultimately he would have to wake him up. Reclaiming his chair from the previous night, he called Seth's name softly so to not startle him. He didn't budge. Seth was always a heavy sleeper. It took Dean nudging him in the arm with his boot for him to wake up.

His eyes flew open and he instinctively flinched away. “Don't touch me!”

He'd let that slide for now, but he'd have to do something about this attitude. Instead, he held up the bowl and glass of juice for Seth to see. He looked at it skeptically, which was fair. “What? Gonna poison me?”

He chuckled at the statement. “Unless you're allergic to oatmeal and orange juice, no.”

Dean took the spoon and scooped out some of the food, maple and brown sugar flavored, and held it toward Seth's mouth, which he clamped shut.

“You have to eat, Seth.”

He tried again, this time Seth moved his head away completely. Maybe he'd drink the juice. He tried that as well, but somehow Seth managed to knock it out of his hand with his elbow, covering Dean's shirt and jeans in sticky, cold liquid.

Dean felt the frustrated growl more than heard it escape his own throat. His eyes locked with Seth's defiant brown gaze. He wanted to play this game? Fine. He could starve if he wanted to.

He gathered his things and stood without another word. Seth wanted to act like a child, he'd get treated like one. He considered this a time out. Sooner or later he'd accept Dean, he just knew it, but he was fighting his own feelings.

Dark eyes followed him as he climbed the root cellar steps and closed the door.

Frustrated and disappointed, he threw the dishes into the sink and paced the floor. How could he show Seth that this was for his own good, that Dean didn't want to hurt him? Seth needed to understand. He needed Seth to understand. Running sticky fingers through his hair seemed to calm him a bit, but barely. Patience, this was going to take patience. He could keep telling himself that Seth would come around, that Seth would know what it's like to love and be loved, but after one night and a disastrous breakfast he was starting to rethink this method of education.

He tried again at lunch, making a grilled cheese and carrot sticks for the man he loved. Seth again refused him.

“If you're going to hurt me, just do it!” He screamed at Dean.

He had smirked at that, “Do you want me to hurt you?”

“No!” Seth snapped, tugging again at his bonds. “I want you to let me go and stop all this playing house bullshit!”

“I can't do that.”

“Why?”

“Because you don't understand yet.”

“I understand, Dean, really.” He said, looking almost pitiful as he tried to give Dean what he wanted to hear. “Please.”

“You're a liar.”

Seth growled and tugged hard on the cuffs around his wrists. “You're the liar!”

Dean shook his head and chuckled. Something about Seth getting all worked up just amused him, it always did. “When have I ever lied to you?”

Seth's mouth opened and closed several times as he searched for the answer, obviously digging deep into his memories and apparently coming up short. Dean knew he had many faults, but being a liar wasn't one of them, especially not when it came to Seth.

“That's what I thought.” He said to Seth with a small smile. “Now, are you going to eat this or not?”

“Shove it up your ass!” Was the classy response.

“Fine.” He clipped, again standing to leave. “We’ll try again at dinner.”

“Playing nice isn't helping your cause, Dean.”

He felt his face darken as he leaned over Seth, bring his face close and smirking as he tried to push back against the mattress, obviously regretting his statement.

“How would you rather I be, Seth?” He asked, placing a hand on his captives rapidly rising and falling chest. It was the first time he touched it since he took him and it felt just like he imagined it would, warm and smooth. He didn't move it though, preferring to let his fingers splay across skin as Seth struggled for words. But Dean didn't want him speaking yet, so he continued.

“Would you rather I beat you? Starved you? Tortured you? I can do that if you want.”

His hand moved now, tracking down from his chest to his abs, letting his fingers run over the ridges of Seth's well toned stomach.

“Dean, stop.” He requested quietly, barely a shaky whisper.

He ignored him “Is that something you get off on? Is that how mommy and daddy McMahon got you on their side?”

His hand tracked lower still, ghosting just under the hem of Seth's gear. He squirmed under his touch, but Dean could feel he was pressing up into his hand, albeit only fractionally. Whether Seth knew it or not, his body was reacting to him.

“Would you rather I was like this, Seth?” He asked again, tucking his fingers in further until he could just barely feel the curl of Seth's pubic hair under his fingertips.

“No.” He breathed and Dean felt slightly disappointed. He wanted to keep going. God how he wanted to rip those compression pants off and taste Seth's cock in his mouth. But not this way, despite the growing erection in his jeans.

He pulled his hand away and stood up. “Then shut up and take the kindness your given.”

Neither said another word as Dean left the cellar with Seth eating nothing he provided for him.

 

 


	4. This Force Knows What You Can Do

“Dean!”

He heard him yell his name, muffled from the floorboards below his feet, but decided Seth had been ungrateful and uncooperative and needed to deal with whatever malfunction that kept him from realizing that Dean was doing this all for him. Always for Seth.

“Ambrose! I _know_ you hear me!”

Again he ignored him. It was easy enough.

“Ambrose! _Please_!”

An eyeroll didn't seem enough, but he settled on it before acquiescing to Seth and entering the root cellar. Somehow, Seth managed to pull himself into a sitting position, his arms folded awkwardly where they were cuffed to the bed.

Dean stopped short, hanging back and crossing his arms over his chest to highlight how unhappy he was with Seth at the moment. “What?”

Seth swallowed, obviously embarrassed to say what he was about to. “I, uh, have to piss.”

He laughed. “How is that my problem?”

Seth sighed and squirmed, obviously uncomfortable. “Look, you told me to accept kindness, right?”

He observed Seth carefully, gauging what he should do next. He could help him in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, Seth was coming around. He doubted it. No, Seth just needed Dean to help him keep his own dignity, not to accept the kindness that had, until now, been ardently unaccepted. So Seth didn't deserve his kindness yet. He'd have to earn it now. So rather then do what Seth obviously wanted, he grabbed a painters bucket he had stashed in the corner and placed it down at the side of the bed.

Seth blinked at it a few times, then lifted his eyes to Dean, brows furrowed and confused. “How am I supposed to-?”

He shrugged, already heading for the root cellar steps. “Dunno. Your smart, Seth. Figure it out.”

“C’mon, man. I'd rather you didn't help with this, but I need you.”

That made him stop and turn. He needed him? He needed him. No. He didn't need Dean like Dean needed him to and that hurt. “Now you _need_ me?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled to himself and said nothing as he climbed the stairs and closed the door behind him, ignoring Seth as he cursed him. “Ambrose! You sonuvabitch! Are you just going to let me piss myself!”

He opened the door just wide enough to yell back, “Yes!”

\---

That night, he cooked a dinner of steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Dean always liked cooking, surprisingly. People would never suspect the eccentric wrestler was a closet foodie, but he was. He loved the process, the smells, the creativity of it all. He was thankful for the large freezer he had invested in, meaning he'd have plenty of food that Seth could refuse.

He grumbled at the thought. The ungrateful asshole. How could he not see that Dean was just trying to show him what he already knew to be true? This was for Seth's own good. He'd understand soon enough.

He entered the root cellar with a plate on one hand and a beer in the other. Seth was still sitting in the same awkward position as before, eyeing Dean angrily. As he got closer, he saw that his captive had somehow managed to use the bucket and he was in all honesty, pretty impressed.

Dean pushed it aside, debating whether or not to leave it ferment down here as punishment, and took a seat in the chair.

“Come to try and feed me again, asshole?”

“Nope.” Was his quick reply, grinning as he propped his feet up on the mattress and began cutting the steak. “This is mine.”

Seth rolled his eyes, “I hope you choke on it.”

“That's not very nice.” He said and popped a piece into his mouth, savoring the taste of the meat as he chewed. “Man, that's good.”

“Are you really going to eat that in front of me?”

He stopped for a second, watching Seth watch him as he took another bite. “Oh, I'm sorry, did you want some? Because I recall trying to feed you _twice_ today and you refused me.”

“Because you probably poisoned it or something.”

Dean laughed and ate a few forkfuls of mashed potatoes before responding. “Don't you think if I wanted you dead, I would have done it by now?”

Seth shrugged and watched Dean's fork load up with more potatoes and green beans. He licked his lips as his eyes followed the movement from plate to mouth. Dean knew he had to be starving, but if he was going to act like a child, he'd get treated like one.

They stayed in silence for several long minutes, the sound of utensils scratching the plate the only noise until Seth's stomach growled loudly and he shifted to try and cover it up.

“Are you hungry?”

Seth looked away, “No.”

His stomach grumbled again and Dean raised one amused eyebrow, “It sounds like you're hungry.”

“Leave me alone.”

“You can have the rest of this if you want.” He offered. “I've been eating it, so it's not like it's _poisoned_.”

He looked back at Dean and he could see the wheels turning in that pretty head of his as he considered the offer. Dean's heart almost leaped out of his chest when Seth nodded, obviously unhappy with the decision but ultimately the need for food won out.

Moving to sit on the mattress next to Seth, he made sure he was close enough so he wouldn't spill anything. In all honesty, he was probably closer than necessary, but it didn't matter because he had made a small breakthrough here.

He loaded the fork with a piece of steak and some potatoes and held it out for Seth, waiting for him to come the rest of the way. Though he seemed to fight with himself, Seth ultimately took the offered food and chewed it faster than Dean could load his fork. Within minutes, the plate was clean.

“Was that so difficult?” Dean asked, taking a long swig of the beer and offering some to Seth, who refused.

“Did you cook that?”

Dean laughed and took another long drawl from the bottle. “No, the maid did.”

“It was good.”

“Surprised a lunatic like me could cook?”

Seth snorted, “I'm usually surprised a lunatic like you could tie his shoes.”

“There's lots about me you don't know, Seth.” He said and gathered the plate and beer.

It was quiet when he left the root cellar. 


	5. What You Can Make with Your Tattered Shell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been very stuck on this. I know where I want it to go, the problem is getting there. So, bare with me.

He'd _thought_ he made progress, but by morning Seth was back to refusing him. The oatmeal was rejected, the orange juice at least didn't spill all over him this time but still managed to be tipped onto the floor. 

“Seth, really?”

“Let me go, Dean.”

“No.” He answered. “Not until you understand.”

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO UNDERSTAND!” He screamed, pulling hard at the cuffs. “I'll make sure you're put away forever for this!”

Dean cocked an amused eyebrow, “Oh, mommy and daddy will help you, huh?”

“I never said that.”

“You didn't have to!” He spat, throwing the bowl and cup against the wall behind Seth, enjoying the way the ceramic and glass shattered under the force. His captive tried to cover his face and head to protect himself, but his awkward positioning couldn't stop all of it and he ended up with shards in his back and arms. He didn't care at the moment, he was too busy fuming to even notice the blood dripping down Seth's skin. “Tell me, Seth, do you let them bend you over willingly or do you at least pretend to put up a fight?”

He snarled, “Fuck you!”

“That wasn't a denial.”

Seth clamped his mouth shut, but made sure to put as much malice and hatred in the stare he gave Dean to set him on fire if he could. Oh, it set him on fire alright, just not the way Seth would prefer. In one long stride he was pulling Seth back down onto his back by the feet, smearing the sheets with the blood already clotting on his arm and back as he fought against him, kicking and squirming. His arms now back above his head, Dean used his body weight to pin Seth under him. 

“I just want you to understand, Seth!” He said as the man under him bucked up in a useless attempt to throw Dean off. But he had a firm position and barely even noticed until Seth's hips hit his own in such a way as to make him groan. He was already half hard by the time Seth started throwing every obscenity at him he could think of. 

“That's it, call me names if it makes you feel better.” He breathed right into Seth's fuming face. “Doesn't change the fact that I love you.”

“Get offa me!”

“No!” Dean yelled angrily and Seth seemed to still as if unsure what Dean might do. He was unpredictable on a good day, and he knew Seth knew this. But he didn't want to scare him any more than he had already so he took a few breaths and calmed himself before he spoke again. With Seth still, he was able to lay his head on his captives heaving chest and sigh. “What do I need to do? Tell me and I'll do it.”

Seth didn't answer. Maybe he was afraid to. Maybe he didn't have one. Maybe he just didn't want to give Dean the satisfaction. He remained silent and tense and Dean laid on him, gently rubbing his ribs with his knuckles. 

“All I ever wanted was you. Ever since that first day in FCW, it was always about you. That's why I went after you right away. I _needed_ your attention, I always have. Then you forgot about me, Seth. You tossed me aside for the Authority.”

“Dean, I-”

He swallowed whatever he was going to say. It didn't matter anyway because Dean lifted his head so his chin rested on Seth's chest. He knew there were tears there, despite trying so hard to hold them back. “I just want to make you feel good.” He said suddenly, the hand at Seth's ribs trailing down now to his thigh, just hovering there as his captive seemed to tense more. “Can I make you feel good?”

“Don't.” Seth warned as Dean's fingers again found their way into the edge of his pants, holding them tight but not pulling them down. 

“I could make you so happy.” Dean said, planting a light kiss to Seth's chest as if he hadn't even heard the tone in his voice. “Just say you understand.”

He felt Seth swallow hard before he spoke, “I understand.”

Dean tensed and looked at Seth with new disappointment and he could swear he could see an apology in Seths eyes. “More lies.” He sniffed. “Do you even know you're doing it anymore?”

“Dean, I understand that you feel some connection with me.” He said steadily. “I really do. But I don't love you.”

Dean said nothing as he pulled himself off of Seth and wiped an arm under his nose, nodding as if he finally comprehended what was said. Seth immediately pulled himself back into a sitting position and tried to cram himself as far away from Dean as he could. 

“I’ll, uh, I'll get the first aid kit for your arm and back.” He said after a minute and disappeared up the cellar steps.


	6. Fear is a Device, Quiet and Precise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting into a bit of a darker realm from here on out. You've been warned.

He didn't mean to lose control like that. It just sort of… _happened_. And it shouldn't have. Seth was just being an insufferable ass. Problem with Seth being an insufferable ass is that is what makes Dean want him so bad. How fucked up was that?

Even now, after everything, after knowing he scared him so bad he probably screwed up any chance he might have had, Dean still wanted him. He held by what he said in the basement, he wanted to make Seth _feel_ good. But in doing so, he's made himself feel so terrible. It wasn't guilt that plagued him - no, he'd do this again in a heartbeat - it was Seth's inability to _see_. 

Maybe he needed to change his approach. Maybe Seth needed to feel what he felt. Maybe Seth needed to feel pain, loss, frustration, isolation. Maybe that would get through to him because kindness sure as hell hasn't. 

Yes. 

_That's what I'll do._ he thought as he crushed the gauze pad between his fingers, the flimsy paper packaging a satisfying crunch between his fingers. _That will change things._

Tonight, he'd play nice. Seth needed that false sense of security before the push. He'd patch up his wounds, apologize for even hurting him in the first place. 

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow Seth would see a new Dean Ambrose emerge. He wanted to be difficult? He didn't know the meaning of the word yet. 

So he plastered an apologetic smile on his face, because he was truly sorry for smashing the plate and cup, but this would be the last time Seth saw one. Dean was tired of playing nice, because _nice_ got him nowhere. 

_Nice_ Dean was gone.

 _Kind_ Dean was gone.

 _Forgiving_ Dean was gone.

Seth curled in on himself when Dean entered the cellar, his hand still folded awkwardly to account for his upright position. 

_He thinks he's scared now?_ he thought, sitting on the mattress with a bowl of clean water, tweezers to pull out the glass, alcohol to clean the wounds, and bandages. He was the picture of remorse, a remorse he didn't feel. 

When he reached for Seth's arm to position him where he could clean the cuts, the man didn't fight him. He didn't speak to him either. He would wince and draw in a hitched breath here and there when Dean had to dig for a particularly deep shard, but he was silent throughout the process. 

“Some of these are going to need stitches.” Dean deadpanned, mentally exhausted, but still anticipating the arrival of the _new_ in the morning. “Will you let me do that?”

Seth waited a few seconds to answer, as if he wasn't sure he should. “Can you do that?”

It was small, scared even, when he asked the question. 

Dean grinned, face softening a bit around the edges, a tug at his resolve, even though he knew this submissive side of Seth wouldn't last. “You don't grow up where I did and not learn a thing or two about patching up scars.”

Again Seth took a long time to even move to make an answer. Even at that, all he did was nod. And that resolve in Dean again began to slip. Maybe _nice_ Dean could stick around a while longer? 

No!

He shook that feeling off. Give Seth an inch and he'd take a yard. Things had to shift. The balance of power had to shift. 

He managed to stitch the few deep wounds on Seth's back without much of a fuss. Neither one of them spoke. Dean was grateful for this because if he opened his mouth to say more than a few words, things could get heated again. The way he felt right now, he might not even try to stop himself. 

He cleaned up the glass the best he could, Seth shifting on the mattress to allow him to take the fitted sheet off. He didn't put another one on. 

Seth watched him the whole time, carefully tracking every move Dean made with uncertain brown eyes. For the most part, he was resolutely ignored. 

“Dean.” Seth said, soft and careful, like talking to an angry animal. “Are we...I mean, is there a…”

He was struggling for words. Dean knew what he was getting at. He wanted to know if he had to worry Dean was going to try something like that again. 

Yes.

Yes he was.

So he gave him his best reassuring smile, a blatant ploy to give him a sense he was safe. 

But Seth Rollins was now far from safe.


	7. This is My World Now

It starts with isolation.

That's the first stage in his plan. Keep Seth alone as much as possible, despite the need to see him, to talk to him, to _touch_ him. But he couldn't just be alone, he needed to be kept on his toes, as uncomfortable as possible.

The first thing he took was the space heater. Seth watched him unplug the contraption without a word, despite his captives constant questions and, oddly enough, apologies. Maybe he was getting somewhere after all. But Seth wasn't stupid, he knew playing to Deans sympathies would get him noticed.

“What are you doing?” He had asked when the heater plug came free from the wall. “Dean, please. Can't we just talk this through?”

He didn't answer even though he wanted to desperately to sit on the bed and do just that. Anything for Seth Rollins! But he couldn't, so he didn't. Rather he hefted the heavy machine easily onto his shoulders and carried it up the root cellar steps.

“Wait, where are you going with that?”

No answer.

“Dean, I'll freeze down here.”

Still no answer .

“Can I at least get a blank-”

He cut him off by closing the door. That was harder than he thought it’d be and he leaned his back against the wood and closed his eyes to steady himself, to remind himself this would all be worth it in the end.

He didn't bother with him the rest of the day, denying him food and water at least for now. He knew he'd eventually have to give him that at least. The goal wasn't to _kill_ him.

It was a particularly cold night and Dean seriously considered getting him a blanket. Somehow he was able to keep his resolve. The following morning he entered to root cellar to find Seth curled into himself in an attempt to keep warm. He could see the younger man shivering and goosebumps dotting his bare torso and arms.

He approached Seth carefully, a cup of water in his hand, and watched as he jumped at Dean's presence. He didn't speak, but his teeth were chattering. It was cold down in the cellar, Dean clearly able to see his breath huff out when he sighed.

He said nothing as he offered Seth the water. The younger man blinked at it a few times then shook his head. “I don't want it.”

Well, Dean didn't care whether he wanted it or not, Seth was going to drink it because he wasn't going to let him die of thirst. He was on the mattress quickly, never saying a word even though Seth was yelling the word “No” over and over as he kicked until Dean managed to get a hold of his jaw and pry it open to pour the water down Seth's throat.

The younger man gagged and sputtered as he choked on the liquid until the cup was empty. That's when he left Seth to cough and gasp for air. He never said a word as he tossed a granola bar on the mattress.

The last thing he took from Seth was light, turning the off as he left.

The next morning was the same. Seth shivered in the corner of the bed as Dean offered him water. He again refused and again Dean poured it down his throat. Would Seth ever learn? He needed to lose something else.

Pulling him back down onto his back without a word, Dean managed to get his compression pants off, leaving him in a pair of black boxer briefs.

“Dean, please!” Seth begged. “Just let me go!”

Again, no words as a reply. He did however have to stop and admire the man now only clothed in his underwear and pinned under him. He couldn't stop himself, he ran a hand over Seth's now bare thigh, the warm skin under his fingertips sending a shiver down his spine. In one swift move, not even giving Seth any chance to brace himself, he grabbed his head and crashed their lips together. Seth was struggling under him, bucking up to try and throw Dean off. He didn't break the kiss until he felt Seth bite his lower lip _hard_. He jumped back and licked at the drawn blood.

That was a mistake. He shouldn't have done that. He should have just left him there. Seth was watching him with wide, fear filled eyes, his chest rising and falling in panic.

Quietly, Dean slipped off the bed. He watched Seth for a few more moments as he pulled himself back up and curled in on himself before he left, tossing another granola bar onto the mattress next to the uneaten other one.

“I'm sorry.” He said after breaking eye contact and quickly exiting the cellar.

That shouldn't have happened.


	8. You Will Learn to Crawl

Seth was curled up into himself as much as he could be against the cold when Dean checked on him a day later. Now only clad in his underwear, he was shivering and taking shallow breaths as his teeth chattered. The frost on the grass that previous night was an indication it was going to get pretty damn cold down here, colder than before. The younger man didn't even move when Dean approached and sat on the mattress. 

“L-Lea-ve m-me al-one.” He chattered, shivering so bad Dean could see his muscles straining. 

“You know I'm doing this for your own good.”

“F-fuck of-f”

Dean sighed, “I could help you if you'd just cooperate.”

“So y-you can f-f-force your-se-lf on me again?” He stammered, his chattering teeth loud when he spoke. “N-n-no thanks.”

“Fine.” Dean said and stood from the mattress, dumping the cup of water he'd brought for him on Seth's head. He jumped at the shock, but resigned himself to glaring daggers at his captor. Dean just smirked, “I hear it's supposed to snow sometime this week. You may want to rethink your situation here.”

“I-I h-ha-te you!”

“No you don't.” He tossed another granola bar next to the others and walked out of the cellar whistling.

\---

Sure enough, that night it snowed. When Dean woke up that morning, there was about an inch covering the grass and trees around the property. The cabin proper was freezing when he climbed out of the warm blankets and he immediately raised the head from the thermostat. 

He wondered how Seth had fared the the cellar where the temperatures got pretty low on a regular basis. But he'd done it _for_ Seth. Seth needed to see. In order to see, he needed Dean. He needed to realize that Dean was the only person he could rely on, that Dean was the only one who could take care of him, that he needed Dean. 

Climbing down the cellar steps, he shivered at the wall of cold that his him. His breath was coming out in huffs of white as he descended the stairs. 

Seth was curled up much like he had been previously, sleeping. Dean wondered how he could sleep half naked in a room so cold…

Wait. He wasn't sleeping…

Dean rushed to him. “Seth!?”

There was no response from the younger man. As he got closer he could see Seth's lips were blue and there was ice sticking to his hair. Dean shook him, hoping to get a response out of him, even if he told him to fuck off, just anything to prove he was alive. Nothing. 

“Oh god.” He gasped, grasping at his hair and beginning to pace. “I went to far. I killed him...oh Jesus…”

A sputtered moan suddenly escaped Seth's mouth and Dean ran to him. “Seth!?”

Another low moan. Oh thank god! He was alive. But Dean had to get him warm, and soon. He ran up the steps, turned on warm bath water, grabbed the handcuff key and a blanket, and ran back down. He released Seth's arms and gently lowered them down to his side. Then, he wrapped him in the blanked and slid in next to him, wrapping him in his own body heat. He knew he couldn't raise his body temperature too quickly, that could put him in heart failure. 

“C’mon buddy, open your eyes.” He commanded, rubbing Seth’s frozen skin. “Just open them and I'll give you a nice warm bath.”

Seth's body was so cold it was literally leaching warmth from Dean's skin, but it seemed to be working. His lashes began fluttering ever so slowly, giving Dean hope. “That's it! Open them.”

After a few more moments of pleading, Seth opened his eyes and Dean laughed in relief. They were unfocused, but he was awake. “‘Atta boy!”

“D-Dean?”

“Yeah, it's me.”

He said nothing else, but cuddled closer, desperate for Deans warmth. He knew it wouldn't be enough, so reluctantly he scooted out of the blanket, swept Seth up, and carried him to the tub as he faded in and out of consciousness. “Stay awake, Seth!”

The tub was full when he got there, almost to the point of overflowing, but he didn't even care. He put Seth into the warm water and waited. He wasn't sure what for, but he waited. 

After a few minutes, the blue tinge in Seths lips began to fade, he was able to keep his eyes open for longer, and he was even able to focus on Dean’s face. “You saved me?”

“I almost killed you.” Dean sniffed. “I'm so sorry.”

After the bath, he gave Seth a pair of his sweatpants and a hoodie and laid him on the couch in front of the fireplace. He didn't fight him, he just let Dean cover him in a comforter and lay him down before building the biggest fire he could manage in the fireplace. 

Dean watched as Seth drifted off from one of the living room chairs. 

He really fucked up this time.


	9. The Stars are Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this has been a while. It took me a bit to get back into the mindset, but I think I got it. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are welcomed :)

He was cold. So fucking cold it actually startled him awake. When had he even fallen asleep? Last thing he remembered was Seth…

SETH!

His eyes shot open and he jumped to attention. He was still in the armchair across from where he had left his captive, but there was nothing on the couch but empty blankets where Seth should be. The door to the cabin was wide open and snow had blown onto the floor, leaving about a half an inch of cold wetness on the wood floor. Seth Rollins must have ran.

“Fuck!”

He was on his feet immediately, a panic beginning to set it. He wasn't sure if it was because of the fact that Seth had escaped or because he was now out there in the middle of a snow storm with nothing around but hungry animals. It wasn't like he could get to anyone, at least Dean hoped, the nearest cabin was miles away. Seth would freeze to death - for real this time - before he even got close. Not even bothering to put a jacket on, he ran for his shoes only to find them missing. Motherfucker took his boots! Thankfully he brought a backup pair and quickly pulled them on. 

Outside, the snow was falling heavier, causing almost whiteout conditions, and Dean had to shield his eyes from the whipping wind. How long had Seth been out here? How far had he gotten? Was he even still alive at this point? Dean had a vision of Seth lying facedown in the snow where no one would find him until it melted. He even had half a mind to leave him there. If Seth was smart, he'd head back to the cabin and wait this out. But Seth, though the master chess player he was, wasn't always as smart as he looked. There were indents in the snow where he must have ran toward the tree line, not quite covered by the flurry of white, and Dean shook his head. 

“Seth!” He yelled into the storm, hoping he'd be heard. it wasn't like he really expected Seth to respond, even if he'd heard him, and he grumbled angrily before grabbing a shovel by the side of the house. Seth wanted to play games? Dean would oblige. 

The snow was almost to his knees by now, which made for slow going. The only consolation he had was knowing it would be slow for Seth as well. 

“Seth!” He yelled again once he made it to the tree line, grip tightening on the shovel. He was annoyed now. “You won't get far!”

He continued to trudge through the wet slop, grateful the trees at least blocked the wind. He ignored the shivers from the cold or the way his now wet shirt clung to him or how his soaked hair stuck to his face. He was running on pure adrenaline at this point. 

But he stopped, thinking this through for a few seconds. If the roles were reversed, Dean knew how he would personally react if given the chance to escape. He would wait quietly in a place like this with so many spots to hide, lull his captor into a false sense of security, then strike. Would Seth do the same? 

He'd have to be on his guard. 

“Seth?” He called into the trees. It was quieter in the foliage, the snow hadn't really touched the ground here and Seth could be anywhere. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

No response. Dean felt himself growl low in his throat, growing frustrated. 

“You'll freeze out here, Rollins!” He screamed. “I'll let you this time! The wolves can have you!”

Nothing. 

Nothing but the sound of something shuffling to his left. Immediately he ran towards it, stopping short when he caught a glimpse of his own boot sticking out from behind a tree. He smirked, Seth thought he was slick. Quietly, he stalked toward it, hoping to get the jump on him. As he got closer, he tightened the grip on the shovel, ready to knock Seth out again and drag him right back to that basement. He was so close now…

When he reached the tree, his heart sank. There was no Seth Rollins here, just an empty boot. Realization hit him like a sharp blow to the head. Seth had faked him out! 

He had just enough time to turn before the tree branch connected with the side of his head and he tumbled to the ground in a daze. Seth hovered above him with a large wooden branch in his hand, looking down at him with all the hate he could muster. Dean couldn't help it. Even through his daze he managed to laugh, utterly amused at this sudden turn of events. Seth was even more impressive than he'd originally thought. 

“Nicely done.” He managed to say, tasting blood on his tongue, as he tried to pull himself onto his elbows. Seth's boot on his chest kept him still. Again he chuckled. “What's your plan now, huh?”

“I could kill you.” He answered, causing Dean to smirk wider. 

“You won't kill me.” 

“How do you know?”

“Because I know _you_.” Dean chuckled. “Unless the Authority has really made you the ruthless dickhead we all knew you were.”

Seth smirked now and Dean felt his heart flutter at the sight. He was so dangerous and so beautiful. 

“Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do.”

Dean kept amused eye contact as Seth raised the branch to strike. He was silently daring him to do it, prove him wrong, show him he's every bit the cold blooded asshole the authority had turned him into. There was a long moment where the intensity in those brown eyes was so strong that Dean thought he might _actually_ do it. He could see the conflict starting to build there too. Seth was poised and ready to beat him to death, but hesitated and dropped the branch to his side.

Dean snorted. “I told you you wouldn't do it.”

Seth's lip curled into a frustrated snarl. He lifted his boot from Dean's chest and brought it down hard. It was the last thing Dean remembered seeing before everything went black.


	10. Just When not How

He was vaguely aware of being dragged and the cold snow collecting in the back of his shirt. Coming in and out of consciousness, he couldn't fight against anything. Cold snow gave way to wooden floors; wooden floors changed to hard thumps against his back; thumps changed to a scratchy softness. He was aware of his arms being raised above his head and the feeling of cold steel wrapping around his wrists, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

He didn't know how long he had been in the hazy realm between conscious thought and unconscious darkness, but he awoke slowly and winced at the pain shooting down the left side of his face. There was definitely the coppery taste of blood in his mouth and a ringing in his ears that could only be caused by a busted eardrum. He tried to move to sit up only to find his arms tethered above him and he laughed at the ridiculousness of his current situation. 

“I don't know what's so funny?” 

He looked up to find Seth seated in the chair by the bed. He'd changed clothes into a pair of Dean's jeans and one of his stupid novelty tee shirts. Did they look just as stupid when Dean wore them? 

“How long have I been out?” Dean asked, managing to pull himself up much like Seth had. His arms were crossed awkwardly, uncomfortably, in his lap. A shiver ran through his body when he realized he was still dressed in damp clothes, but Seth had brought back the space heater and turned it on full blast. He was treating Dean far better than he would have anticipated given the situation. At least for now.

“About an hour.” Seth answered carefully, making sure to watch every move Dean made. 

Dean licked at his split lip, “So now what?”

“I'm still on the fence as to what exactly I should do with you.” He answered with a shrug. “Your radio said that this is the worst storm to hit this area in a decade. There's well over a foot of snow out there already and it's not going to let up anytime soon.”

“So we're stuck together?” Dean asked, trying to hide the glimmer of excitement in his voice at the prospect of being snowed in for the foreseeable future with the love of his live, even if that love hated his guts right now. 

Seth sighed, “It would appear so. But don't think for one second that I'm going to give you any sort of freedom, not after what you pulled on me!”

“So, you're gonna keep me chained up down here?” He asked with a sly smirk. “Kinky.”

“Do you ever take anything seriously, Dean?”

He laughed dismissively, “Yeah. I took you very seriously, you just don't want to hear it. Everything I did here was serious. I told you before, I love you and you love me. You just don't see it yet.”

Seth smirked and shook his head in utter disbelief. “You're unbelievable.”

“Is it though, Seth?” Dean prodded, leaning forward as much as his bonds would allow. “Think about everything we've been through together. There was a time when you would have fought side by side with me. You had my back, you _cared about me_ , didn't you? Then you got on your knees for Hunter and his Authority goons and dropped me like a bad habit. For what? A championship? What we had was so much deeper than that and you know it.”

He'd struck a cord, he could tell by the clench of Seth's jaw and the tight fists he had made in his lap. Good. Seth needed to hear that. Maybe he's finally see why Dean had done what he did. 

“Don't you think if I cared at all about you, I would have stayed?” Seth countered and it was Dean's turn to be taken aback. “You and Roman were nothing to me. The authority gave me everything I always wanted, handed it to me on a silver platter.”

“At what cost? Your soul?”

“Sacrifices needed to be made, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You're so full of shit.”

“It doesn't matter anymore, does it?” Said Seth through tight set teeth. “We are on different paths now. I could care less what happens to you.”

Dean snorted his amusement at Seth's blatant stupidity. “Don't even try to lie to yourself that you don't care about me. Do you remotely believe that we'll ever be on different paths? We've been connected since Orlando. We’ll never be rid of each other.”

“That's what you think.”

“That's the truth!”

“No.”

“Fine.” Dean said after a beat. “If you really believe that, then kiss me.”

“What?” Seth snapped. “No!”

“C’mon Sethie. You hold all the cards here.” Dean replied, making a point to show he was tied up pretty good by waving his hands in the cuffs. “What have you got to lose?”

“My dignity?”

Dean laughed. “Oh come _on_! That's been gone for a long time now. Prove me wrong. Kiss me and if you don't feel anything then you've won. Isn't that what you're all about these days? Winning?”

Dean knew playing to the younger man's ego was the way to go because he could see the wheels turning in Seths brain. Seth would never pass up an opportunity to prove Dean wrong, that's what Dean was banking on when he suggested it, and it was obvious he was considering it. 

“Fine!” Seth said suddenly and moved to the mattress where he was face to face with Dean. 

He tried to hold in the triumphant grin, he really did, but it was obvious by the look on The Architects face he was failing miserably. He tried to shake it off with a quick apology and waited. Seth was moving agonizingly slowly, inching closer to Dean at a snail's pace. If it weren't for the cuffs holding his wrists, Dean would have grabbed the back of his head and crashed their lips together, but, as it were, he let Seth dictate the speed. He needed him to do this on his own. 

He made it to about an inch away before pulling away quickly. “This is stupid! It's some kind of trick!”

“What trick?” Dean laughed. “I'm literally tied to the bed. This is all up to you.”

A heavy sigh passed out the architects lips and he resumed his position. This time, a shudder ran through Dean as Seth's lips brushed his own softly before pressing forward. It was everything he hoped it would be. Despite Seth's protests, the kiss lasted far longer than it should have if he was so dead set against it. He could swear he felt seth moan ever so slightly too. 

Seth pulled away and looked Dean directly in the eyes for a long moment. He could see the confusion there, the longing, maybe even a bit of lust, but it was gone in a flash, replaced by that facade that Seth had built over the years. “Looks like I won.” He said. “I felt nothing.”

That was most definitely a lie. 

He pulled himself from the mattress and straightened out his shirt, probably an attempt to do something with his hands other than fidget. Dean watched him closely as he headed for the root cellar steps. “I'll bring something for you to eat.”

He waited until the door was closed before he let himself smile. There was definitely electricity there. Seth Rollins had definitely felt it too. He hadn't won. Not by a long shot.


	11. You Will See Me Now

He could hear Seth pacing. The heavy stomp of his boots on the hardwood floor above echoed in the basement loudly as he waited for him to make up his mind about whatever it was that was agitating him. Not that Dean didn't already know and that made a satisfied grin pull at the corner of his mouth. 

Seth was trying to deny the fact that the kiss shared between them what felt like hours ago was nothing but him proving to Dean that he was wrong. But by the way he was moving above him, it was the exact opposite. He was finally starting to see and Dean knew that all this was worth it. Every action he made brought Seth to this very moment of turmoil within himself. 

He wondered absently how long he'd been up there, just pacing back and forth while trying to convince himself that the kiss was nothing. He knew Seth's mind was clouded, fuzzy, unsure, and that's what made him dangerous. He could do anything he wanted to Dean right now and, in all honesty, it'd be justified by the way the Lunatic Fringe had treated him over the last week. He could leave him down here to freeze, but he brought the space heater back; he could tie him to some tree outside and let the wolves have at him, but he's brought him back into the relative comfort of the cabin; he could have even killed him with that stick in the woods, but he hesitated. 

All these signs meant Seth actually _did_ have a heart, despite what the Authority had turned him into. He still cared about Dean, he loved him. 

Suddenly Seth stopped pacing and Dean looked up at the root cellar ceiling, waiting and listening for his next move. It wasn't like he could do much else cuffed to the bed like he was. His head was still throbbing where he'd been hit with the stick and he knew there was blood still drying on his temple, so any movements of his head were slow and careful. 

Seth was still for several minutes. If Dean had to guess he was standing at the front door. It didn't sound like he'd opened it yet, and maybe he was trying to decide if he could leave. There was a muffled curse and the pacing began again. Dean chuckled to himself. 

Several more long minutes of pacing and Seth stopped again, this time it sounded like he was in the kitchen just in front of the door leading to the cellar. Dean waited, and watched the steps for the moment he could see Seth again. He alway took his breath away, even when he was angry; always so beautiful when he met Dean's eyes, even in anger or shock. It was like all the harsh lines of his face blurred and it was just the perfect picture of what a man should be was staring back at him. Seths dark eyes always seemed to just _understand him_ , even when he didn't. 

The door opened and Dean didn't try to hide the excited upturn of his mouth when Seth descended the stairs. What was the point? Seth already knew his feelings even if he denied his own. He had a bowl of water and a towel in his hand with a box of gauze. Without a word, he approached the bed and sat down before taking Dean by the chin and positioning him so he could look at the wound on his temple. 

“How's the snow out there?” Dean asked after a beat.

He managed to catch the exasperated look from Seth as he dipped the towel in the bowl and began gently dabbing the dried blood from Dean's face. “Don't talk to me, Ambrose.”

Dean chuckled, “You're sounding a little… _conflicted_ , Seth. It have anything to do with our talk?”

He pressed the towel down hard on Dean's wound, eliciting a hiss of pain while making a point that he was uninterested in having any interaction other than this. They sat in strained silence while Seth worked, first getting as much of the blood off Dean's face as he could, then checking the wound for any splinters before applying three butterfly stitches and a gauze bandage. Dean watched him through the entire interaction, sometimes forcing Seth to take his chin and reposition him as a result. When he was done, he packed up his things and made to leave. 

“That's it?” Dean called after him and Seth stopped, shoulders tense. He hadn't turned around and Dean wondered if he was fight with himself about what he should do next. 

“You could say thank you.” He said after a few seconds, still never turning but Dean could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke through gritted teeth. 

So he said thank you, simple as that. It wasn't sarcastic or insincere, he genuinely thanked Seth. 

Little did he know, that would throw Seth into a fit of anger that he was wildly unprepared for. The bowl and other items in his hand were thrown to the floor and Seth was on him in a flash, hand tight around Dean's jaw so fast he had almost no time to brace himself. It wasn't like he could fight back with his hands restrained anyway. 

“Why!?” He screamed in his face, making Dean flinch at the sound of his voice so sharp. “Why couldn't you have just left me alone!? Huh!? Why'd you have to pull a stunt like this to prove some idiotic point!?”

Dean was smiling, he could feel the tightness in his cheeks spread with his grin. However with Seth's hands on his face like they were, he couldn't answer, so the expectant look in those dark eyes actually made him chuckle. Seth pushed Dean's face away, but continued to hover over him like some sort of scolding parent waiting for their child to admit wrongdoing. 

Of course Dean continued to find this amusing. But Seth had admitted it, Dean proved a point. Seth now knew it and so did Dean. “You're finally starting to see, Seth.”

“All I see is someone finally lose that last marble that had been rolling around in his head for years.” He spat back, pointing an angry finger in Dean's face. “You _kidnapped me_ , Dean! You almost _killed me_! For what? To show you love me? That's not how it works and you know it!”

Dean was growing angry now as well, he could feel the heat of it tightening in his chest. “But it _did_ work! Didn't it?”

Seth clamped his mouth shut, eyes locked with Deans in a battle of wills they had been fighting since they met. They were fire and ice, sun and moon, north and south. They were always connected but never alike, and they would always be that way. That's why they worked, that's why Dean always felt this way for Seth. And now, Seth was starting to get it! 

“So what if it did, huh?” He said, taking a step away from Dean as if he couldn't trust himself to be in such close proximity. “That doesn't change the fact that you...you...fuck it.”

He surprised Dean by closing the gap between them in one stride of his long legs and grabbing him by the sides of his head to crash their lips together. He was straddling Dean's waist before he could even comprehend what was going on. It was like Seth suddenly couldn't get Dean close enough for his liking and he was tugging and pulling on every piece of clothing he could get his hands on. Dean was painfully hard in his jeans by the time Seth's fingers tangled in his hair and pulled his head back to expose his throat. Full lips trailed down from his lips to his jaw and across his neck, leaving bites and licks so rough there would definitely be bruises. 

Dean didn't care. Seth finally understood! He finally knew what Dean had been saying all along. Seth could straight up tear his throat out for all he cared and he could die happy knowing Seth felt the same. 

“Uncuff me, Seth.” He breathed and winced when a particularly hard bite came against his collarbone that Seth then soothed with a swipe of his tongue so slow it made Dean moan. “I want to make you feel good.”

Seth pulled away and looked at Dean with lust filled eyes and pink, swollen lips as he shook his head. “No, you're staying just like that.” Then he again fused their lips together for a bruising kiss before continuing to speak directly into Dean's mouth, voice heavy with want and need. “Just because you're right, doesn't mean I trust you.”

Seth climbed off him and grabbed his ankles to force him into his back and his hands above his head before again straddling him again. Lips found each other again while Seth unbuttoned Dean's jeans and pulled the zipper down before pulling him free with one hand and giving him two strong tugs. Dean moaned garishly and Seth smiled against his mouth. 

“Where's your lube and condoms?” 

Dean was taken aback by the question, still so focused on Seth's hand around him to really think straight. It took a tight, almost painful squeeze to his dick before the synapses in his brain reconnected and he was able to answer. “Bedroom, side table.”

“Good to know.” Seth said and pulled away from Dean's mouth, a devious look in his eye. He climbed off Dean and straightened out his shirt before beginning to pick up the items he'd thrown to the floor.

To say Dean was confused was an understatement. “Wha...what…?”

“Consider this payback, Dean.” Seth said and began climbing the stairs with a sly smirk playing on his face. He was watching Dean's face shift as realization then frustration then anger settled in the creases of his eyes. “You're right though, this did work despite me fighting you. That doesn't mean I can't have a little fun first.”

He was up the steps before Dean was able to formulate any coherent words, turning the light out and shutting the door just as he called out with a “Seriously?!”

Touche, Seth Rollins. Touche.


	12. When it Drains Your Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I've been struggling with this for a while now. I know where I want to take it, but it just doesn't want to cooperate. I'm sorry if it starts to get repetitive or boring :(

“He could have at least put my dick back.” He grumbled in the dark of the root cellar and shifted uncomfortably on the lumpy mattress. 

He didn't even bother to sit back up while he waited. Besides, the metal of the zipper was beginning to dig into the sensitive skin of his lower regions and any movement would make him even more irritated than he already was. At least he wasn't hard anymore, but the massive case of blue balls would start to be a problem sooner or later. 

That made him smile, despite his current situation Seth had finally come around! He knew this would work, he knew Seth just needed to realize that Dean loved him and he loved Dean in return. It was a hard road to get here. They had been through so much together before even reaching this point that he was shocked it took this long. Seth was so beautiful when the pieces finally fell together in his head, like Dean could see the exact moment that he realized what Dean had already known. That very second would be saved in his memory for the rest of his life. 

The root cellar door opened and light filled the dark space, causing Dean to squint at Seth as he descended the stairs. He stopped midway to take in Dean's probably embarrassing state and chuckled. “If only I had a camera…”

Dean rolled his eyes, but there was still a ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Honestly, if he could see himself right now, he'd probably say the same thing. “Could you at least zip up my pants?”

Seth smiled and shook his head as he came the rest of the way into the cellar to stop at the foot of the bed and cross his arms over his chest. “If I let you up, will you behave?”

“No promises, sweetheart.” He replied with a flirty wink and his heart fluttered at the stern look Seth was trying to give him. 

“This is serious, Dean.” Said Seth, any previous amusement gone. “I need to know you won't try any of the shit you did before.”

He sighed, “I promise.”

“That wasn't very convincing.”

“Look, I did what I had to do to make you see.” He said and realized pretty quickly it was probably the wrong thing to say because Seth turned on his heels and headed back to the stairs. “Wait! I'm sorry!”

Seth stopped and looked back. “Say it again.”

“What? I'm sorry?”

“Yes, say it and mean it.” Seth countered, his arms again folded over his chest. 

Dean set his jaw, almost unwilling to give that to Seth because he wasn't sorry for what he'd done, but he did feel bad for almost killing him. Seth was patiently watching him with those big brown eyes and Dean felt himself crumble under that stare. 

“I'm sorry, Seth.” He said after a moment, and he meant it to a degree. “I'm sorry I almost killed you.”

Seth was watching his eyes closely and Dean knew he was searching for any shred of a lie that might spill from his mouth. He knew Dean as well as Dean knew him; he knew every tell, every quirk, and every trick in his book. Whatever he saw in Dean's eyes must have been good enough because he sighed and dropped his hands to his side as if he'd been defeated. Perhaps he was.

Seth approached the bed and reached into his pocket to produce the handcuff key. He released one of Dean's wrists, slipped the cuffs off the headboard, and quickly cuffed his hands together again. He blinked at them a few times before cocking an eyebrow at Seth. “Really?”

“You didn't think I was going to trust you completely, did you?” Seth chuckled and headed for the stairs before disappearing up them. 

Dean laughed quietly to himself. Seth wasn't stupid, It was one of the things that drew Dean to him in the first place, but he had to give it to him for this bold move. He carefully put himself back into his pants and zipped them up before climbing out of the bed and heading for the stairs. He wasn't quite sure what he'd find when he got there but sure as shit wasn't going to waste this gift of freedom. 

Seth was standing at the stove when Dean finally made it up the steps and into the kitchen. He was cooking. Dean had never seen Seth cook before and he suddenly wondered what else he hadn't seen Seth do before. He definitely hadn't seen him do a lot of things, but that didn't mean he never would. 

“Whatcha making?” He asked, standing back a little.

“Pasta.” Was the simple reply, no more and no less. 

Dean waited for him to say something else, anything, but he never did so he started walking towards the living room with every intention of just sitting on the couch. A hand jutted out and grabbed him, directing him to sit in one of the chairs at the kitchen counter. “No, you stay where I can see you.”

Dean offered him a sly grin but didn't press the issue while Seth continued to work in silence. From his seat he could watch Seth move around the kitchen, he could watch the way his arms stretched for a spice or utensil, he could observe the way he licked his lips and muttered silently to himself. He could definitely get used to this view and he wished he could just wrap his arms around Seth's waist, handcuffed or not, and hold him close. 

However, Dean was never one to sit still for long and soon he was getting bored. He hadn't even realized he was tapping the cuffs against the table until Seth's hand pressed them still. “Stop it.”

He stared at their connected hands for a long second, just relishing the feeling of Seth's warm palm on him. Seth pulled his away quickly when he saw the look on Dean's face. Maybe he was thinking the same thing. The way he suddenly swallowed and turned away made it pretty clear they were at least in the same book if not on the same page. 

Watching Seth again, he let his mind wander. Would Seth let him touch him if he tried to right now? Would he leave the cuffs on? Would he let Dean make him feel good? 

It was the sound of a plate hitting the table in front of him that drew him out of his thoughts. Seth took a seat across from him and watched him stare at the food that honestly looked and smelled pretty damn good. 

“You gonna eat it or stare at it?” He ask and Dean smiled.

“I'm just a little shocked you're being so -”

“I can take it away.”

Another grin. This exertion of dominance was adorable. He took the fork and maneuvered himself to eat. It was a process with his hands cuffed as they were, but soon they were both chewing in silence. 

“Do you remember that time in Toledo?” Seth said suddenly. They had been through Toledo so many times together that Dean honestly had no clue what he was referring to. Seth continued. “We were at some shitty hole in the wall bar and you started to pick a fight with some guy that made the big show look like a normal sized guy.”

Now Dean remembered. “Yeah, he punched me square in the jaw. I swallowed a tooth.”

Seth smiled at the memory. “Roman and I jumped on his back and tried to choke the guy out for messing with you. We managed to get him on his knees and you kicked him in the face, knocking him out.”

Dean laughed, “We had to run out of the bar before his buddies could retaliate. What made you think of that story?”

Seth's smile seemed to falter a bit. “I remember thinking I wish I had guts like that. I admired you for being an idiot. Maybe I still do.”

“Seth -”

“No, Dean, you're right.” He said but resigned himself to looking at his hands. “I think I've always had some sort of feeling for you. Your methods are ridiculous, but surprisingly effective.”

They sat in silence for a long time, both taking in the words spoken. 

It was Dean who broke it the only way he knew how. “Does that mean you're going to uncuff me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Kinky.”

“Dammit, Dean!”


	13. A Spark will now Ignite

The snow continued to fall heavy the rest of that night and the entirety of the following day. When it finally began to taper off, Dean figured they had probably gotten close to 4 feet. Later, the radio confirmed that it was actually closer to six feet by the broadcast that came through after Seth had turned it on that morning, waking him from his sleep on the couch. It was just as well, his arm had fallen asleep ages ago from where Seth cuffed him to the heavy oak sofa leg. Two nights sleeping like that and the crick in his neck was verging on unbearable. 

But it was better than the cold basement. It was better because Seth was there, he would talk to Dean even if only pleasantries like ‘good morning’ and ‘sleep well’. When Dean was awake, he'd uncuff him from the sofa and recuff his hands together - for his own piece of mind Dean would assume. It wasn't exactly ideal in the lunatic's mind, but it was working and Seth was showing more signs that he definitely felt something for Dean 

Today, Seth walked over to him as he pushed himself up to sit and handed him a cup of coffee, made just the way Dean liked it because _of course_ Seth knew how Dean liked his coffee. “Radio says six feet of snow, highest on record for this part of the country.”

“Figures,” Dean snorted into his mug and took a sip of the tan liquid with his free hand, enjoying the milky sweetness as it tracked down his throat. That small comfort helped wake his body up and that crick seemed a bit more bearable. “Looks like we're stuck for a while.” He added with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrow. 

He watched Seth sit across from him in the armchair without comment. Maybe he'd gotten used to Deans suggestive tone because he didn't even dignify it with an eyeroll. Dean noted that Seth was wearing his jeans again and a tee shirt with the phrase ‘Sarcasm: just one more service I offer’ on it. He chuckled to himself and wondered it looked as stupid when he wore it. 

“What's so funny?” Seth asked and he seemed to be squirming like he had something on his face. 

This only made Dean's smile spread across his face. “My clothes look good on you.”

“Your clothes are ridiculous.” He countered, but there was a ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “When will you grow up and buy normal shirts?”

“Never.” Dean laughed and, surprisingly, so did Seth. It was light hearted and amiable, reminding Dean of how they had been friends once upon a time. Seth must have realized it too, because his face shifted to a far away expression he'd almost equate to longing. But as quick as it was there, it was gone, replaced with the stony look he'd seemed to have practiced since joining the Authority. 

Dean hated that look. It was a look that read betrayal and forgetting. “You should really stop making that face.”

Seth arched an eyebrow. “What face?”

“The one that means you don't care.” He answered, draining the last of his coffee. “You've had it ever since you hit Roman with that chair.”

“I don't have a _face_ , Dean.” He damn near pouted, which Dean admittedly found adorable. “Besides, maybe I didn't care.”

Deans eyebrow quirked at the use of past tense. Seth said _didn't_ not _don't_. 

“Why'd you really do it?” Dean found himself asking, not really sure why he needed to know. “Why'd you turn on us?”

Seth huffed out a breath, like he was sick and tired of answering this question over and over. He probably was, but Dean knew the story he told everyone else and the truth were always two different things when it came to the Architect. 

“You know why I did it, Dean.” He answered, skillfully skirting the question. 

“No, I know the practiced answer the Authority fed you. I want the truth.”

“Maybe you don't deserve the truth.” 

That cut Dean deep, whether Seth meant it to or not. Based on the look he was being given, he meant it to. His only response to that was a quick nod and a clipped “Right.” 

There was a heavy silence between them for a long time, one neither seemed comfortable with but didn't want to be the one to disturb either. If Dean had the ability to leave the living room, he would have, but having one wrist handcuffed to a heavy couch kept him pretty well stuck. When Seth got up from the chair and motioned for his empty mug, Dean handed it over without a sound. 

When he returned, he again sat in the chair but ardently refused to look at Dean. He busied himself with twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers and tapping his foot on the hardwood floor. Finally, he threw his hands up, defeated. “Are there any board games in this dump?”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “I think there's a deck of cards in one of the kitchen drawers.”

Seth got up to find them, but pulled the handcuff key from his pocket and released Dean from the couch and recuff his wrists. Dean let him do it with an incredulous sigh, but said nothing. He followed him into the kitchen and say at the dining room table, waiting for Seth.

Seth returned and placed the deck in front of Dean, who blinked at it a few times. “You're gonna have to shuffle, man.”

“Why?”

Dean held up his cuffed wrists to show he didn't really have the ability to shuffle and deal whatever it was they were about to play. Seth smiled and took the cards. He deftly shuffled the cards in his hand, cutting and bridging them like he was a pro card dealer or something, then he dealt five to each of them and declared the game as poker. 

“Of the strip variety?” Dean suggested and Seth promptly rolled his eyes.

They played for the rest of the day, only breaking for bathroom breaks - which seth insisted Dean come with him on and stand outside the door singing something so he knew he was there and not running off somewhere - and to eat. Before they knew it, it was getting late in the evening and Seth was yawning. 

That's when Dean got an idea. “Care to make a little wager on the last game?” 

Seth eyed him, carefully wary of what Dean might say. “Like what?”

Dean grinned. “I can't sleep on that couch again. I win, I get to sleep with you in the bed. No funny business.” Then he held up his cuffed hands, “You can even keep these on if it makes you feel better.”

Seth chewed on his lower lip as he considered the proposal. Then, “Deal.”

Dean couldn't hold back the excited grin. “Really? I wasn't expecting you to go for it.”

“But,” Seth continued. “If I win, you go back to the basement.”

Though the prospect of going back into that cold, dark cellar wasn't exactly appealing, Dean knew they were pretty evenly matched in their poker skills and it was a fifty-fifty shot he'd win. So he nodded and Seth dealt the cards. 

When he looked at his hand, his heart sank - two queens, a ten, a jack, and a six. Fuck.

“You're play.” Seth said and Dean gave up everything but the queens and the jack. Seth dealt him two more cards before taking three for himself. 

Dean had at least got another jack, two pair was better than one. He took one card on his next play and only pulled a three. 

“Whatcha got?” Seth asked and Dean put down his cards.

“Two pair, queens and jacks.”

For a moment, Seth's face was unreadable. Then, his shoulders slumped and he cursed under his breath. “You beat me.”

Dean felt his heart soar. “YES!”

“Don't get too excited, you're keeping the cuffs on.”

Then Seth pushed away from the table and stretched out his long body, a sliver of his tan stomach visible when he lifted his arms which made Dean's face flush hot. Seth didn't seem to notice, rather begrudgingly motioning for Dean to follow him to the bedroom.

Dean watched him for a second, but suddenly found himself curious what hand Seth had. He lifted the cards and grinned to himself. Seth had a full house of kings and aces. Fucker had definitely won that game. 

“Let's go, Dean!” Seth called after him and he dropped the playing cards to the table, that grin still splitting his face. 

He managed to compose himself by the time he got to the bedroom. Seth tossed him a pair of sweatpants, already having changed into his own. Dean made quick work of pulling off his jeans and slipping on the offered clothing. He climbed under the covers after Seth had turned off the lights and got in himself. The two of them laid there on their backs in complete darkness, the only sound their own breathing. 

“Selfishness.” Seth said, surprising Dean. 

“What?”

“You asked me this morning why I turned on the Shield.” He clarified. “The answer is, selfishness. I was promised money, fame, titles...all it got me was loneliness.”

“I know you won that card game.” Dean said. 

“I know.” 

“So why let me sleep here?”

His answer came when Seth threw his arm across Dean's chest and pulled him close. “Same reason.”


	14. This is Our World Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those waiting for the smut, HERE IT IS :)

Dean woke up with a soreness in his wrists and a heavy pressure draped over his hip. It was pleasant and warm and he could have stayed like that forever because Seth Rollins was holding him, subconsciously or not. He hadn't let go throughout the night and every time Dean would try to shift to a more comfortable position, Seth would move with him. It was like they were in sync, just like they always were, just like they always would be. 

His warm chest was now pressed against Dean's back and he scooted closer, close enough that Dean could feel his morning erection pressing against his lower back. He was snoring ever so softly into his ear, the sound an adorable chorus of inhale, snuffle, and exhale. He could definitely get used to this. 

He shifted in the bed so he was facing the sleeping God drooling into his pillow, Seth moving right along with him with his arm still over Dean's waist. He took a moment to just watch him. He looked so peaceful, so beautiful, so vulnerable in this state. He chanced a small peck on his mouth and smiled when the only response he got was a sniffle and his tongue poking out to lick his lips where Dean had kissed him. 

Getting braver, he maneuvered his cuffed hands to the hem of Seth's pajama bottoms and ran his fingers just under the elastic. The sharp intake of breath from the sleeping man told him he was on the right track and slipped his hand inside to graze his fingers over the fabric covered bulge. It was the first time he had touched Seth like this without that hesitation, that fear in his brown eyes. It was nice to watch his face change, his mouth part and small moans escape, to feel him buck his hips ever so slightly into his palm. He was making Seth feel good, just like he had wanted from the beginning. 

“Dean...” The sleepy voice was there before he'd even opened his eyes and Dean couldn't tell if Seth was talking in his sleep or awake and ready to push him away like he always did, so his hand stilled and he waited. When no resistance came, he smirked to himself and pressed a little harder into Seth, hoping to entice more of those little noises out of him. 

He was painfully hard in his own sweatpants and he wished his hands were free to stroke himself and Seth at the same time. For now, he'd focus on the sleeping man next to him. Getting even braver, he slipped his hand into Seth's underwear and bit his lip to suppress his own moaning. He'd seen Seth's dick before, just like Seth had seen his. Showers in arenas and changing in small spaces between shows left little to the imagination and they were all used to it. But feeling it hard and twitching under his touch was a transcendent experience, it was everything he'd imagined it to be in those lonely nights in the endless string of generic hotel rooms. 

When he wrapped his fingers around it, Seth let out a shudder and arched his hips off the bed and into Dean's hand. God he was so hard he could barely take it and began grinding into Seth's hip, closing his eyes against the delicious friction he was getting. 

A hand around his wrist stopped him and he froze, cuffed hands still in Seths pants and his own erection pressing against his hip. 

“What are you doing?”

Caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar - almost literally - he wasn't sure what to say. Somehow _I was hoping to get you off while you slept_ seemed a bit much, so he shrugged and grinned when Seth opened his eyes to look at him. He tried to remove his hand, knowing Seth would probably be pissed about this, but Seth held his wrist firmly in place. Stunned, and more than a little concerned this was about to go south, he just waited with his fingers loosely holding onto Seth's cock. 

Not sure what was about to happen, he and Seth locked eyes, just waiting. Then, Seth pulled his hand from his pants and Dean had a feeling that this was where he'd be kicked out, sent back to the basement, tucked away where he couldn't touch him anymore. He didn't know if he could handle being away from him again. 

But, despite his fears, that's not what happened. Seth held his hands to his chest and kissed his knuckles. It was the first outward sign of affection Seth had ever given him. His lips were warm and soft against his rough skin, and they lingered there for several seconds with Dean's mouth agape in shock. When Seth looked at him again, there was a mischievous twinkle in those dark eyes and Dean felt his whole body flush warm. 

Seth shifted on the bed so he was straddling his waist and held his cuffed wrists above his head with one hand while the other cupped his cheek. It was tender and controlling and perfect. He leaned down and hovered just above Dean's lips and, despite how badly he wanted to lean up and meet him, he waited for Seth to make a move. He had a feeling that was the point here. Seth wanted to do things his way, and Dean couldn't really blame him after what he'd done to him. So, if Seth wanted to torture him with slow movements and cuffed hands above his head, so be it. It would be the best kind of punishment he'd ever received...if that even what this was. 

“If we're going to do this, we're going to do it my way. Understand?” Seth said, stern and precise, sending all the blood he had left in his brain to his groin and leaving him nodding like an idiot. Seth grinned and closed the gap between them, pressing full, warm lips to his in a surprisingly chaste sort of way. When Dean tried to deepen it, Seth pulled back and chuckled. “What did I just say?”

“Sorry.” Was all he could manage. 

After studying him for a moment - probably to make sure Dean would listen - he shimmied off him with instructions to stay put that Dean had every intention of obeying. Like he was going to risk this...whatever this was. Seth returned a few seconds later with the handcuff key and Dean felt his skin flush with anticipation. He'd finally get to touch him properly, he'd finally get to run his hands downs Seth's sides, he'd finally get to…

Do nothing. 

Seth had only released his hands long enough to secure them to the bedframe above his head. 

“Can't we just get rid of these?” Dean asked, testing their hold on him for what felt like the hundredth time. His wrists were red and burning from the constant wear on his skin and he was frankly tired of this little safety blanket of Seth's. “If you're just going to rile me up again and leave…”

Seth resumed his position on Dean's lap and quieted him with another kiss, this one far more desperate that the first. His tongue ran across Dean's lower lip and he opened his mouth to allow Seth's tongue to explore him at his leisure. He was grinding down onto him now, his hard cock rubbing against his own in a filthy shift of skin under fabric way too constricting now. Dean would have been embarrassed by the needy whimper that left his mouth when Seth moved in such a way as to press them together further, if that was possible. To be honest, he didn't give a damn about pride. Right now, his all consuming thought was what Seth was doing with his tongue. 

Seth moved from his mouth down to his jaw, running his hands down his sides. Dean hissed and groaned when he felt nails trail across his abdomen but let Seth do whatever he wanted. He felt the other man grin against his skin. “You like that, don't you? A little pain mixed with pleasure.”

Fuck, if that wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever had rasped into his ear, Seth voice heavy with his own lust. Any blood left in his brain was now gone. 

“Please.” He begged. 

Another smirk, this time against his chest as Seth's lips moved further south. “I like you like this, Dean,” he said and bit a harsh bruise on Dean's ribcage only to smooth it over with a swipe of his tongue. Dean tried to angle his hips up for something, _anything_! Seth ardently avoided him and finally planted his hands on Dean's hips to keep him still while he continued to suck and bite at his chest and abs. “Begging.”

Fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants and shimmied them down off his hips but not enough to free his aching cock. Seth kissed at his now exposed hipbone and Dean could barely take any more of this beautiful torture. His arms were straining in the cuffs, wrists red and raw from pulling. If Seth liked him begging, that's exactly what he'd do if it meant he could get some sort of friction on his dick. “ _Please_ , Seth! Fucking shit, I need it! Please!”

Another one of those damnable smirks is all he got. How was Seth standing this? He knew he had to be just as hard in his pajama pants. Finally, He pulled his pants down to mid thigh and Dean breathed a sigh of relief at finally getting his straining erection free from the constraints of even the loose fitting sweatpants. 

Then, without warning, Seth took Dean into his mouth, causing him to buck forward in surprise and almost gag him. But Seth took it in stride and began a slow, torturous rhythm on him. Up and down, tongue swirling, sucking just the right way. Fuck, if Dean could formulate a coherent thought he'd have thanked whatever God was listening for Seth and his magic mouth. At the moment, he was simply reduced to keening whimpers, sloppy moans, and straining muscles as Seth worked on him. God he was so close, so incredibly close. He wondered if Seth could tell, just like Seth could always tell when he was happy or sad or frustrated. Seth always seemed to know him better than he knew himself. 

Had he stayed where he was, sucking Dean off in the most glorious way, he would have definitely cum deep in Seths throat. But the younger man pulled off of him with one last long suck ending with a filthy _pop_ as he released him. Kissing up his body again, Dean's skin was tingling with every soft press of lips to skin until he reached his mouth and pulled them together for a bruising kiss filled with need, want, affection, lust, whatever else Seth was feeling at that moment. Before anything else, Seth pulled Dean's sweatpants all the way off and threw them somewhere. He hadn't seen him reach for the side of the bed until he heard the pop of the lube cap. 

This was really about to happen. Everything he'd done, everything he pushed for, was about to come true. Seth loved him, Seth wanted him, Seth needed Dean as much as Dean needed him. “Spread your legs for me.” He said and Deans cock twitched against his stomach, earning another one of those smirks from Seth. He did as he was told and Seth moved between them, leaning over to again plant a kiss on his lips. 

The cold feel of Seth's lubed digit against his hole made him jump but ultimately press against him for more as he simply circled the muscle with his index finger. When he finally inserted his finger in, Dean cried out like a goddamn pornstar. By the time two fingers were in, he was a writhing mess that made Seth use his free hand to press his hips still. That was nothing compared to when Seth curbed his finger and hit that spot inside Dean and the electric shock that seemed to rack his body. Seth was going to kill him with pleasure and he had no fucking problem with it. 

“Do you want me inside you?” Seth breathed against his neck, planting a kiss to his Adam's apple. 

“Fucking _YES_!” 

“Say please.”

“Goddammit, Seth! PLEASE!”

He whimpered when Seth pulled his fingers free, leaving Dean to clamp down of nothing. When felt the head of Seth's cock press against him, his entire body tightened, waiting and wanting. Seth pushed forward and his body accepted him like he knew it would, easy and inviting. It burned so good to feel the fullness of Seth inside him, but it felt right, like Dean was home finally. 

“You okay, Dean?” 

He knew Seth was waiting for him to get used to the intrusion, but he needed him to move so rather than answer, he wrapped his legs around Seth's waist and pulled him closer. Seth braced his hands on the mattress and began to thrust, a slow rolling of his hips at first but graduating to harder thrusts of a man trying to prove something. What that something was Dean didn't know or care. 

“You're so fucking tight.” Seth said, leaning down to lick a stripe from his collarbone to his jaw, ending with a deep kiss that left them both even more breathless. 

Shifting his angle, Seth released the pressure from his arms but began slamming himself into Dean's prostate over and over. One of Seth's free hands now trailed down the outside of his thigh while the other wrapped around Dean's cock to stroke it in time with every snap of his hips. 

“Fuck! Seth! I'm gonna...I'm-” 

He didn't even finish that sentence as a tidal wave washed over him and his body stiffened up. He shot hot cum into Seth's hand and onto his own stomach as he rode out the best orgasm he had ever had in his life. He felt himself fluttering around Seth's dick, not surprised at all when he release hot and sticky inside of him. 

They lay there for a long, silent moment of trying to catch their breaths. Seth slowly pulled out of him and pulled himself from the bed. Dean found himself wondering absently if he was done with him when Seth walked to the bathroom without a word. He could just leave him here, covered in his own mess with Seth's cum already dripping out of him. When Seth returned, he felt himself smile. Seeing Seth in all his glory was worth everything. Just being in his presence set Dean's skin alight again. 

He had a wet cloth and wiped the both of them down before throwing it off the side of the bed somewhere. Then, he produced the handcuff key again and released him. He expected to have his wrists cuffed again and ignored the satisfied grin at the stunned face he was sure he was making when Seth took them off completely and placed them on the night stand. 

Seth climbed back up the bed and laid his head on Dean's chest. “It's snowing again.”

Dean smiled and closed his eyes, wrapping his now free arms around the man he couldn't live without. “I love you, Seth.”

There was a pause, like Seth wasn't sure what to say back. Eventually, he snuggled down into Dean's embrace and sighed a contented little breath. “I love you too, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. That's all she wrote. I really hope everyone enjoyed it. It was tough trying to get here, but we made it! 
> 
> Happy endings all around!

**Author's Note:**

> Main title based on the song "Firewall" by Les Friction. 
> 
> Chapter titles are lyrics within that song.


End file.
